


“You know… We could always just talk about it.”

by meansovermotive



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Lethal White, Romance, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meansovermotive/pseuds/meansovermotive
Summary: News about a client prompts Robin to suggest a different approach.--NO Trouble Blood spoilers!
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 24
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I had this idea and decided to write it up before I went too far ahead in Trouble Blood and lost the thread.  
> For those who have read my previous work, it's kind of the opposite idea...  
> Once again, I was aiming for something lighter, but oh well, I'm an angst machine. Ensue another examination on motives and feelings.  
> And it was awkward to break it in chapters so they will be of wildly different lengths. I'm thinking 3, mostly written.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

After quite a tiresome week, Robin was looking forward to this afternoon, which promised to be more laid back. Turning the corner on Denmark Street, she thought that it was also the rarest of occasions, these days: not only did she not have any field work to keep her out of the office, but Strike also had paper work to do. The subcontractors where busy elsewhere, though, so it would be just them for today.

Having passed long ago the point in which she would pretend this fact did not also influence her prospects for the day, she allowed herself a smile while climbing the stairs. She couldn’t help it, even though, having had months pass from her divorce, her _situation_ with her work partner still didn’t look to be moving any quicker – to the disbelief, in fact, not only hers but of many a friend and acquaintance.

Opening the door, she could hear Strike was already in their now conjunct office.

“Hiya”, she said, hanging her coat.

“Hey, Robin”, said Strike from the inner office. “How’s things?” he asked, when she appeared at his door.

“All right”, she said. “Good to have a day around here”, she smiled.

“Yeah”, said Strike. “Don’t mention it to Barclay and Andy, but it’s good to spend one day not tailing someone’s husband, for a change” he said, grinning.

“Oh, come on”, Robin said, raising her eyebrow. “Everybody knows that you like a good paper work as much as anything.” She looked at his desk. “I can _see_ your color coded labels from here, you know” she said, smiling.

Strike laughed.

“Fine”, he said, raising his hands, “guilty as charged of being an organized male”. Robin smiled.

“You know”, she frowned, glancing with a annoyed expression at her own desk, filled with not so neatly disposed case files. “Perhaps it would actually be worth mentioning something to the blokes”, she said. “They could certainly take some inspiration from you”, she said, going to the kitchenette and turning the kettle on. “Tea?” she asked loudly.

“Sure, thanks”, Strike said, smiling while he returned to work. It was going to be a good afternoon, he thought.

They worked a few hours, in content and mostly quiet companion, interrupted every once in a while to complain or make a funny remark about a client of coworker, occasionally both (“Seriously, Cormoran”, said Robin showing Strike an absolute mess of a file, “you’ve got to be a bit generous with those labels. I know --we could make a training day on how to organized files” she said, serious, before they both grinned).

At around four, Barclay called Strike to tell the latest developments on his case, and Robin decided the interruption was a reasonable motive for more tea, with the added benefit of biscuits.

A few minutes later, she entered the office with two mugs and a tin of biscuits on a tray, while Strike ended the call.

Noticing it, he grinned. “Read my mind”, he said.

“Pretty good chances of ‘reading your mind’ at any giving time by bringing you food” she said, grinning, and he laughed. “So, what did Barclay say? Any developments?”

“Well”, he said, “yes and no. Nothing new regarding the information leak, necessarily – although it might be, who knows… But anyway, it seems _Bigshot_ and his wife – who, as you know, is also his partner at the firm – are getting divorced.”

“Oh”, Robin said. “But didn’t they marry, like, a year ago?” she said, taking a sip from her tea.

“Yeah. Sam says his assistant let it slip that after they got together it was no longer smooth sailing with the business.” He paused, looking at her, then looked away, taking a biscuit. “Apparently they started disagreeing a lot.”

“Oh”, said Robin again. She felt a shiver, even though the window was closed. She could also feel a sudden tension in their conversation. “That’s a shame. I thought their story was actually really cute, from what Sam had told us”.

Strike made a noncommittal sound in reply, chewing his biscuit.

Robin continued, “And what about the firm?” she asked.

He swallowed. “No one knows for sure, but word around there is they will dissolve the partnership as well” he said, taking his cup to his mouth again, mostly to avoid looking at her.

“That’s really sad”, Robin said, her own tea forgotten. She _did_ indeed feel quite sad, for reasons that did not have that much to do with the couple they were talking about.

“Yeah, well”, Strike said, clearly uncomfortable. “That stuff happens – a lot, actually” he said, slowly.

They looked at each other, not sure of what to say, the atmosphere between them full of tension. In an attempt to clear the air, Strike made to return to his work, but Robin had a different idea in mind. Suddenly taking what she knew was a very bold and risky decision, she said, her voice level:

“You know… We _could_ always just talk about it”.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know… We _could_ always just talk about it” she said, her voice level.

Strike’s head snapped back to her, his eyebrows shooting up.

He cleared his throat. “You mean about…”.

“Us” she said, simply. Seeing a shadow of panic in his eyes she continued, “Look, Cormoran – hear me out. I know that our approach so far has been to ignore the subject entirely, which has mostly worked, I think, but, well… our situation has changed, hasn't it? We’re… closer now... We’ve both been single for a while… I mean, honestly, if we think about it, there’s really no reason not discuss it, is there – especially considering we’re probably the _only_ people who are not”, she concluded, frowning.

Strike gaped at her, eyebrows raised, cogs in his brain visibly turning.

Sensing he was about to play at misunderstanding, she quickly added, “And by the way, Ilsa’s not been subtle about it, either, so there’s really no point in pretending the idea never crossed our minds. I’m pretty positive both of us have had to endure her babbling about it, haven’t we?” she raised her eyebrows, a grin in the corner of her lips.

He stared at her for another moment, and then, realizing she was actually waiting for an answer, cleared his throat and said:

“Uh… yeah, Ilsa had been a bit of tool about it, to be honest. Sorry about that, by the way”, he added, frowning.

Her eyebrow moved slightly, and she shook her head. “No need to apologize”, she said. “But you didn’t answer me” she added pointedly.

“Right”, Strike said, clearing his throat again. “So… you think it would be good to… talk about it?” he asked. “As in, the possibility of we….”

“Well, yes”, Robin responded. “I mean, if we’re being logical, there’s no reason, like I said, not to. Think about it, really. If we talk and establish that we just don’t see us… going down that road, then when anybody brings it up we can say that we’ve discussed it, and neither is interested -- case closed, that will shut them up.” She said this with more difficulty then she would have liked, forcing however a casual voice. “If, however, that’s not the case… then there’s _really_ no reason not to discuss it, right?” she concluded. “Don’t you agree?” she asked, an anxious note in her voice.

Strike considered her words with a worried expression.

“To be completely honest, Robin” he said, slowly, “I can’t say that I do.” She raised her eyebrow. “I think you’re missing a possible complication, there”.

“Which is…” she asked, intrigued.

“Which is”, Strike said, “that it may be that one of us, as you put it, see us _‘going down that road’_ , while the other… doesn’t”, he said, carefully. “Now that could be quite problematic, I’d think”.

“Huh”, Robin said, pondering. Of course the possibility had occurred to her, since that was exactly her predicament. She, however, could only see two possible reasons for _him_ to be concerned. She also had a pretty good idea of which one was more likely – and it was an option in which she did not come out well in the slightest. On the other hand, he had just given her an outing to give this up if she wanted. It had been, after all, a somewhat reckless decision of hers that had led them to this conversation so far.

But what good would come out of keep things like they were, really? It would mean continuing this endless cycle of small, daily doses of hope and heartbreak, added to the eventual awkward and hurtful remark by Ilsa, Vanessa or even her family, which she already found quite tiresome. And what if –when-- he started dating? No, she thought. It would not do to continue like this. Better to know, once and for all. Taking a big breath and summoning all her courage, she said:

“Okay, Cormoran, I hear you. But – here’s the thing, though. I can only think of only two reasons for why you’d worry about that. Either _you_ have… feelings… yourself” she said, noticing he flinched, just slightly, “and is worried that I don’t, or… or, you’re worried that _I_ do, and since you don’t, you’re worried about hurting _me_ ” she concluded.

Before he could respond, she continued, quickly, “So – and I’m sorry for the unilateral decision here, but trust me that it’s for the best, really – I’ll just go out on a limb here and say that, well, I have in fact considered that possibility. Quite often, to be honest. I do… wonder… well.” She said, her cheeks pink, praying and hoping that she hadn’t done a terrible mistake.

Strike, again, stared at her dumbfounded. _How on earth_ , he thought, _had he fallen in the trap to this conversation?_ It had been such a nice and calm afternoon, he was about to have biscuits, and then… then this.

“Christ, Robin”, he said, a bit out of breath. “You didn’t have to do that. Fuck…” He paused, while Robin stared at him expectantly. She had given him _fucking check mate_ with that, hadn’t she? Now he could not _possibly_ let her think that it was one sided, could he, especially considering that, well… that it wasn’t. He scrambled his mind for another option, but realizing he really did not have any, continued, “Of course I have considered it” he said in a low voice. “I’d have to be nuts not to, wouldn’t I?” he added.

“Oh”, said Robin, for the third time that afternoon, relief washing over her. “You have?” She handn’t ruined everything. She hadn’t, right?

“Yeah”, he insisted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Are you really surprised?” he asked, frowning.

“Well, _kinda_ … I mean, for starters, I think it was only around the Laing case that you first acknowledged that I am a, well, woman.” She said in a rush, raising her eyebrows and blushing slightly.

Strike’s eyebrows shot up as well.

“What are you talking about? I gave you a fancy dress after our first case together”, he said, baffled.

Robin rolled her eyes.

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t count, Cormoran. I _had_ just saved your life, and also, you didn’t mean it like _that_ …” she frowned, suddenly curious. “Or did you?” she added, narrowing her eyes.

“’f course not”, he said, indignantly. “Obviously I always noticed… _you_ … But you also had a gigantic rock in your finger. That draw a pretty firm line from the beginning” he said, marking his point by sticking his finger in his desk. “ _Especially_ since I didn’t yet know how big of a _twat_ was the bloke who had put it there” he added.

Robin let a small laugh.

“Oh, so your interest came from a desire to rescue the damsel in… annoyance?” she asked, amused. “Didn’t pin _you_ as that type, Cormoran”.

He shaked his head, grinning.

“Ha, ha. No, Robin.” He turned serious. “It was just too painful to see you with someone who so clearly did not deserve you, that’s all” he added in a low voice.

Robin’s eyes widened and she didn’t respond immediately. Swallowing, she said,

“I know. Thanks, Cormoran”, she said, quietly. They stared at each other, the air charged again, although this time, for different reasons. Then Strike suddenly asked,

“Wait, Robin, I thought I was being, you know, professional and courteous. Were you actually _offended_ or something by the way I acted?” he asked, worried.

Robin laughed.

“Of course not. Your behavior was a big reason for why I trusted you so completely from the beginning… not only, you know, because you _were_ professional and courteous, but… you _know_ how much it meant to me that you valued me for my abilities and work, right? ” she asked, a hint of emotion in her voice, and he simply nodded. After a pause, she added, “Also, to be honest, it was actually later that I… well. Started to see you differently” she said, a little shyly.

“Huh”, he said. “Like when?” he asked, curious.

Robin flushed.

“Well…. Oh, Cormoran, that hug at my wedding. That wasn’t just me, was it?” she asked quietly.

His face was serious when he responded,

“No Robin. That wasn’t just you” he said, his voice low. They looked at each other for another moment. Then Robin asked,

“Well, was that it for you too, then?”

Strike pondered in his response.

“Let’s just say… that it was a bit earlier.”

Robin swallowed, looking in his eyes. Neither made a mention to move, and the moment stretched. _Now, what?_ she thought.

“Okay”, she started slowly. “So we’ve actually established that we _both_ have… considered this possibility. So…”

Strike stared at her, but didn’t say anything.

Not giving up, she insisted, “So… what is it that you think?” she asked quietly. She was suddenly concerned at his expression.

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He knew this part was going to be risky.

“Look, Robin”, he started cautiously, and she braced for the worst. “I have also thought about it a… good deal. Like I said, I’d be _crazy_ not to. You are… incredible, Robin. You really are." He paused. "And I’m not talking about the job right now. You’re smart and competent, yes, but you also care deeply about other people, you are brave enough to fight for them, and you do it all so graciously that….” He said, marking each point by sticking his finger and his desk and then shaking his head, like in disbelief that she actually existed. “It goes without saying”, he continued, “although perhaps I should… that you’re also beautiful.” he concluded, his eyes on hers.

Robin felt overwhelmed. She was deeply touched with he said, enough that tears were forming in the corner of her eyes, but even so, she could sense where this conversation was heading, and wasn’t liking its direction.

After a pause, Strike continued,

“I really, really care about you, Robin. I hope you know that. You changed my life completely upon entering it, every bit of it in a good way. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. Not only as a partner, but as a friend.” He said with a hint of emotion in his voice, and took a breath. Robin, who was still looking at him, wiped a few tears that were running down her face.

“Thanks, Cormoran. That means a lot to me, it really does. You know I feel the same, right?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, serious, and continued, “But that is precisely why I _have_ to say… Please, Robin, bear in mind that the last thing I want is to hurt you, okay? I’ll even skip the bit where I say that I’m not good for you, despite the fact that I’m _clearly not_ , and also about how what we want in life might be different, because I understand that that would be yours, and _only yours_ , decision to make.” She made an expression that said something like “Well, _yeah_ ”, and he continued. “But even so, Robin, even so… I just can’t ever come to the conclusion that it would be a good idea” he said, letting out a breath. “I’m sorry, I just can’t. I know myself, I know how my relationships have been, and I – I just can’t envision it ending well. The chances of it going wrong are just too gigantic. We’d end up losing our each other, our friendship, the business that _we both_ value so much…" he paused. “That’s what I think, Robin. I’m sorry if it hurts you, I really am. I really hope it doesn't, though”, he added.

They looked at each other, again, his eyes fearful, hers serious and defiant.

Of _course_ that would be his opinion, she thought. It was so obvious – how could she have ever thought otherwise?

She said, a little coolly, “Well, Cormoran, to be honest, I can’t say that I’m surprised by your opinion. Everybody who knows you well understands your history and… priorities”. He frowned. She continued, “I can’t convince you otherwise, obviously, and I’m also, well – not interested to. I appreciate that you know it would be my decision to make, and of course, I respect that the same applies to you.” She paused before continuing,

“I just hope you realize that we may face problems anyway. I mean, even if we had never touched the subject, if we both have these… deeper… feelings towards each other, well, that ought to bring tension either way, don’t you think? What happens when one of us starts dating?" She paused, before continuing, "Haven’t we kind of been in that situation after my wedding, if we’re being honest? And how did that turn out?” Strike’s face was deep in frown.

“But anyway, that’s just so you’re aware, if you weren’t before. It’s honestly not meant to convince you of anything. Even more because if I _were_ to try that, despite how much I value the job – and _you know_ how much I do -, protecting the business would hardly be my priority then, now would it?” she asked, her lips thinly pressed together.

She paused and looked at her watch.

“Well”, she continued, starting to get up from her chair. “I’ll be going if you don’t need anything else from me today.” Strike shaked his head, silently, clearly deep in thought about Robin’s words. She looked at him and said, “Don’t worry, though. I know you, I knew what to expect from this conversation, and I went in anyway. Sorry about that, by the way, but honestly, I think it was for the best. We’ll be better prepare to deal with it now, won’t we?” she asked with a forced smile. “Anyway, good night. Be well” she said, and turned to leave.

When she reached the door, Strike croaked,

“Robin!”

She turned. He swallowed.

“Are you… are you hurt?”

She paused.

“Well… I am a bit, actually, Cormoran. You want to know why?” he nodded, his face contorted in worry. “First”, she started, “I am hurt that you would have so little faith in yourself, that you’d be so sure it would never work.” She paused. “Secondly, that you’d also have so little faith in _us_ , in… well, in _me_. I know your past, Cormoran, but you also know mine. _I_ know you’re not Matthew. I hope you know that I’m not Charlotte, either.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Finally… to be honest, I’d never, _ever_ , imagine feeling hurt over this, when I’ve dreaded the opposite situation all my life, but…” she paused, her voice a little shaken with emotion. “Truth is, I’d understand, Cormoran, if you simply never looked at me that way, if you only ever saw me as a work partner, a friend.” She took a breath before continuing in a long speech,

“But to _know_ that you _see me_ , completely, as a colleague, friend and partner, but also, as a _person_ … To know that you see who I am, understand and value me… enough, maybe, to share your life with me as a different kind of partner – and you _know_ that it could be like that with us” she said, raising her eyebrows to emphasize her point. “To know that you _could_ , that maybe you _wanted to_ , but that you choose not to, because _one part_ of me is so much more important to you than anything else... Well.” She paused again to get her voice under control. “And you know, Cormoran, it shouldn’t, it _really_ shouldn’t, since it’s the absolute opposite from how I _ever_ wanted to be seen-– but yeah. Yeah, Cormoran. It hurts.” she said, looking at him. She made to go, but turned back and, looking seriously at him, said,

“I just hope that you’re being honest with yourself about your reasons. Because it would be a real a shame if they turned out to be bullshit, now wouldn’t it?”

Then, rapidly turning and taking her coat, she left in a blur, leaving an absolutely stricken Cormoran Strike staring at where she had just been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A few acknowledgments (not sure how to tag people, though):
> 
> \- Robin's remark about Strike seeing her as a woman and his response about the dress were inspired by @DevineMandate thorough and hilarious work of compilation and his observation about the passage in which Robin says that. (By the way, anyone else remembered 'Hermione, you're a girl'?)
> 
> \- The fic as a whole was kind of inspired by @anna_rr 's Moving forward, which I loved and made me realize how likely it is that talks about a case would prompt this kind of opening.
> 
> -Very mild spoilers for Trouble Blood below (please leave them out of the comments, though, haven't finished it yet XD):
> 
> After I wrote this I reached a part in TB in which Strike's thoughts strongly resemble some of what he says here, but since I hand't read it yet I didn't consider as a spoiler. And also, it goes to show that it isn't really news he might feel this way, right? So very predictable, Strike is.  
> Something from TB that bled here, though, was about Ilsa's meddling, when I realized how ridiculous it was that they would pretend this wasn't a thing if Ilsa was making it so obvious for everyone. But then again, not really news.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay, took me a bit longer than anticipated.  
> Hope you like it!

Robin made all the way to her house before she allowed herself to cry over the loss of a possibility she had held for so long - not to mention, the humiliation and hurt that she had felt with his words.

It didn’t last long, however. She quickly pulled herself together and started a cleaning spree, although in her head she kept going over the conversation and worrying about how she would face him tomorrow, how things would move forward now.

 _Did I make a terrible mistake?_ , she wondered. She supposed they’d be able to move past this with time, like they had before, although she suspected that this time it would leave deeper wounds in their relationship.

Once again she was forced to be honest with herself and admit that in a certain level, it was somewhat of relief to be able to let go of her expectations and worries about her relationship with Cormoran. Knowing that she never again would have to wonder if it was ever going to happen -- that she would never have to discover whether the reality of it would correspond to her expectations, whether it _could, really,_ work, or if she or him ( _more likely him_ , she thought) would fuck everything up. Most of all, that she never would have to really, _actually_ open herself to this possibility that, despite its promise, or exactly because of it, was so very scary.

She pondered whether that made her exactly the same as Cormoran. She _knew_ that he also must be terrified of the prospect, and she could, indeed, understand it. But she quickly dismissed the thought – she had, after all, been open to actually try.

She wondered whether she had been too harsh on him, though. Here she was worrying about how she would face him, when perhaps he was the one who felt most offended, who might not want to talk to her ever again. Could it be possible? God, she thought, she’d left and hadn’t even let him respond!

Those were her thoughts when her phone rang. To her great surprise, it was indeed the very same person she was presently worrying that might never want to speak to her again.

“Hi”, she said when picking up, hesitantly.

“Hey, Robin” Strike’s voice came on the phone, quiet and careful. “I’m sorry to call, but… could we talk?” he asked.

Robin felt nervous. _Oh God,_ she thought, _he never calls first after a row with anyone. He can’t possibly be calling to sack me, can he?,_ she asked herself with dread.

“Uh… sure. Go on”, she responded instead.

“Actually”, he said, “I think we should talk in person… if you don’t mind. Would you be willing to open the door for me?”

She almost dropped her phone.

“You’re _here_?” she asked, surprised.

“I am, actually. Again, hope you don’t mind. If don’t want to talk to me, though, I’ll totally understand…”

“No, it’s okay” she cut him. “I’ll let you in in a minute” she said, and hang up.

She took a deep breath, more certain by the minute that she might be losing her job soon. Why else would he bother coming all the way over there? She shook her head to dispel the thought, decided to focus on the small part of her brain that was registering, with relief, that she had just cleaned her apartment, and went to the door.

\--

On the other side of her door, Strike was nothing short of nervous himself.

When Robin had left, he had been completely lost.

He somehow had managed to not get drunk, and instead, like he always felt the need to do, he spent several hours pondering on their conversation and what he should do next.

He was angry, he supposed, but most of all he was terrified that he might have lost her for good.

While he was pondering about that, his heart heavy with this possibility, he realized that it was indeed… real. The possibility of fucking up and losing Robin for whatever reason was always there, no matter the nature of their relationship. Perhaps a romantic attachment was indeed a greater, or different risk, but all of this made him realize that he should never, ever, take her for granted.

He had also considered gravely her words to him. He asked himself if it was true that he valued the _Robin-work-partner_ more than the Robin that was his friend, that could be… something else.

He was sure it had been true at some point, but when asking himself what it would feel like if she ever wanted to leave the firm, and whether that’d be _it_ for him in regards to their friendship, he was overwhelmed by the feeling that he would never, ever want to be without her in his life. The mere prospect was agonizing to think about.

And yet, again, it was a possibility. He had already almost lost her twice, in different ways – once when he sacked her, the other time after her wedding - and she was right. If they both had these feelings, what would happen when they started dating again? _Could_ their partnership survive that, really? And what would he feel if she moved on, but _he_ was never able to let go?

Finally, he thought about her last words. _Was_ he bullshitting himself? Was he just afraid of change? Just hiding in his structure, the way he went about life, trying to protect his freedom and identity, things he’d so forcefully had to defend against Charlotte back then?

And what was _that_ worth… if he lost her?

At that point, he had hurriedly attached his prosthesis, taken her keys and driven straight to her house.

Now, standing in front of her door, it felt like that one minute had taken an eternity, when she finally opened the door.

\--

She let him in and closed it. They stared briefly at each other, before Strike spoke.

“I’m sorry, Robin”, the words tumbled out of his mouth. “I’m so, so sorry. You were right. I realize that now” he said, looking at her.

Her mouth fell open. If she had hardly expected an apology, she most certainly had not expected…this.

She closed her mouth and swallowed. “What do you mean?”

He took a breath.

“You were right, Robin. I was lying to myself. I’m fucking terrified of losing you and was hiding behind my old ways, my fear of change, not realizing that _that_ might make me lose you for good.” He paused and looked at Robin, her mouth once again slightly opened. Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes, but she merely wiped them, not saying anything.

“But”, he continued, “you were also wrong. I searched myself, Robin, I really did, and well – here’s the truth, I don’t fucking care about the business if it would mean losing you _in any way_. I really don’t. I _do_ see you, and value you, and… and I should’ve had more faith, if not on myself, in you.”

“Oh, Cormoran” Robin finally said, with tears in her eyes, and in a second her arms were around him. Surprised, he took a moment to react and enlace his arms around her as well. They held each other tightly, and then parted, remaining however much closer than they were used to. Strike looked at Robin fondly.

“I do now, though”, he said softly. “I mean it, Robin. If you want to try this, if you really think it could work, then I’m game. Just say the word and I’m in” he said seriously, looking in her eyes.

Robin looked at him for a long moment, her eyes serious as well.

“Are you sure?” she asked him, her words echoing the moment before their embrace at her wedding, the moment that she had, thankfully, came back to his life.

“I am” he replied seriously.

Robin, however, wasn’t satisfied.

“Are you really, though?” she asked, and continued quickly, “Because if you still have doubts, we _can_ talk about it, and if you’re only saying this because you think I’m going to resign or something, you should know I’m really not - and if that’s the case, Cormoran, honest to God, I—“

“Robin”, Strike said shaking his head, his tone firm but a grin forming in the corner of his lips. She stopped talking and looked at him, who was once again serious. “You know I’d never do something like that.” Because she was still with an unsure expression, he continued in a tender but sure voice, “Robin. Listen to me. I promise you - I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

Robin, finally, smiled and let out a breath.

“Oh, Cormoran. I’m so glad you came to your senses.” He raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “Well” she added, “The game is on, then.” And enlacing her arms around his neck, she slowly touched her lips in his.

She was scared, and she knew he was too. But somehow, in that moment, she knew she had no reason to fear. They trusted and believed in each other, and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't really think that is exactly in character for Strike, at least for now - haven't read all of TB yet, though - but I suppose that's what fanfic is for, right? hahaha  
> Hope you enjoyed that, and thanks to who followed this! :))


End file.
